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In search of a new sacred space
A secret and solitary place
It won’t hurt or harm anyone
If I pick up my toys and I run
Silent whispers do not leave a trace.
I will keep them and hold them inside
The perfect of places to hide
Where no one will hear, not a peep
Way down deep inside me they’ll creep
Washed away like the sands with the tide.
Whispers In The Wind 
Well, I can try, Jodi!
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i can climb into a hole built of words,, stay there for hours… days even… and only come up for air when i feel as if i can do it all again… cant you????
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ah, but silent whispers do leave a trace, as do the fluttering of butterly wings reflecting songs the angels sing. they are the intricate weavings of this universe, too small perhaps for common observation but far more critical to existence than the largest creation of man.
the whispers may fall to the wind, the wind though is a currior.
where fore do our whispers fall?
perhpas the tiniest ear
of the tiniest thing
thankful to hear at all.
Bless you Oz. You’re a very special person. Your comments are almost as beautiful and honest as your poetry and I thank you for this beautiful moment of encouragement. Sometimes I look around and feel like I have nothing to offer that can make a difference in this crazy world. But, we keep trying don’t we?
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Please don’t hide away – come out and play; we need you.
Thanks, Harry. I’m sure I’ll be back out to play before you know it! I just can’t help myself.
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Wow! Between your lovely poem and Bob’s thoughtful words, I’m blown away. Excuse me…I need a minute…
And Jo, just let it all out…you’ll feel better! LOL
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Okay, but then what will WE do? Where do we turn for those special nuggets and unique insights we count on you for? Sometimes the most sacred place is that tiny crack allowing the love to come and go at its pleasure. How do we replace that?
Just written in a moment of weakness. Don’t panic! It’s just that I do from time to time. Thanks, Bob.
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